


Thorns And All

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-07
Updated: 2006-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sofia discovers a key to Sara's personality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soothing the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Date: 2-6 May 2006  
> Word Count: 3251  
> Summary: Sofia discovers a key to Sara's personality.  
> Warnings: n/a  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Frisked & Conquered  
> Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & Passion & Perfection only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, and CBS Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," CBS, or any representatives of Jorja Fox or Marg Helgenberger.
> 
> Author’s Notes: This started out as a challenge of sorts from Ralst for the 5th anniversary of Passion & Perfection. She'd given me the prompt of "the anniversary of Sara's father's death." I'd thought about it for a while, then this idea just came to me. It was intended to be a one-shot. Yeah, my Sofia muse didn't go for that, so it became a trilogy. Go figure…
> 
> Beta: Many thanks to shatterpath, ctorres, celievamp, mrswoman, and ralst for beta-type commentary. It was muchly appreciated…
> 
> Dedication: My muses, for obvious reasons…

When I walked into the labs that night, I could feel it. There was a different energy that was just…off. Making my usual rounds to check on my various open cases, I quickly noticed a startling absence.

Sara was nowhere to be found.

Thinking back, I knew it wasn't one of her normally scheduled days off. That was when I realized Catherine was in, and this was definitely one of her days off.

My curiosity now thoroughly piqued, I wandered over to the lab she was firmly ensconced in. Walking in, I instantly recognized the evidence and felt that pang of loss at Sara's absence. It wasn't often that I was given both female CSIs to work with, so the cases tended to be on the memorable side.

"Hey, Sofia," Catherine greeted warmly. "Sorry I don't have any news yet for you on this one."

I shook my head. "Not a problem. Just surprised to see you here. I thought you had plans?"

"Just with my mountains of laundry. You'd be surprised what Lindsey can go through in a week!"

I chuckled in sympathy, unconsciously moving to don latex gloves. "I can only imagine how you handle these dual duties. My mother did something similar. I don't know that I could."

"I don't know about your mother, but it wasn't really a choice for me. Eddie was pretty useless, and somebody had to play mommy to him and Lindsey." I felt her gaze on me, those shrewd eyes studying me. "But that's not why you're prowling down at this end of the building, is it?"

Not really surprised by her observation, I shook my head and replaced the photos I'd been rifling through. "Can't put anything past you, can I?" I asked, teasing lightly. 

"You know, she called out sick this morning," she replied nonchalantly. "I'd barely gotten home when Grissom called to see if I could cover for her tonight. Said she'd requested it and would pay me back as soon as she could. Didn't take me long to--"

I didn't hear the rest of what she said, mind racing to recall anything out of the ordinary when I'd last seen Sara. Nothing stood out. What on earth could have happened? "Did she say anything when she left?"

Again, that intense scrutiny. I was missing something vital here. I could feel it, but had no clue how to find it.

"You don't know what today is, do you?" she asked softly. When I shook my head, she pointed to the door. "You need to talk to Grissom, Sofia."

Curiosity danced the Macarena with dread in the mosh pit of my stomach. I stripped off the latex gloves and stuffed them in a pocket. Finding Grissom's door open, I poked my head in to see Jim was already talking to him. They moved as one to study me before I was gestured in. I was starting to feel like some kind of insane experiment.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," I started, tucking hair behind my ear with suddenly nervous fingers. "Catherine said I needed to talk to you? Something about Sara being sick and the significance of today's date?"

"Have a seat, Sofia," Grissom replied, a tenseness to his tone I didn't often hear.

~ * ~

Armed with the bare facts of the murder that Grissom gave me, I dug a little further into the accounts and records of the murder. It all combined to give me a far too vivid look into Sara's past, her psyche. I had to admit that it made a lot of sense now how she reacted to cases like that.

It was with little surprise that I found myself parked in front of her apartment building. I was more surprised by my inability to get out of my car for long moments. I fingered the key Grissom had given me "just in case" as I made my way up to her apartment. I didn't want to consider what "just in case" might mean.

I knocked lightly on the door, ears straining for any sound on the other side of the wooden barrier. "Sara? It's Sofia. May I come in?"

There was the faintest sound of movement before the locks were thrown and she was opening the door. My sigh of relief was sharply sucked back in at the sight of her tear-ravaged face. I squeezed the key in my pocket painfully in an attempt to hold back from suddenly grabbing her in an encompassing embrace.

"What're you doing here?" she asked in a gravelly voice rough from too many tears. But she made no attempts to shut the door.

"Making sure you're okay," I replied honestly. Torn between concern and a sudden, surprising nervousness, I shoved both hands further into my pockets.

"Grissom send you? Or Catherine?"

"Both…neither," I replied, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Does it really matter? I was worried about you. We all were, Sara."

"And you got sent as the spokesman for the group, hunh?" she finally asked. "And no, I haven't been drinking if that's what you're wondering. I know better than to fuck that up again."

"I wasn't thinking anything of the sort, Sara. I was wondering… Listen, can I come in? I'm feeling kind of self-conscious out here."

Her expressive eyes grew unreadable for a moment, and I could almost feel her withdrawing into herself. The cop in me understood the defense mechanism. Hell, the woman in me understood it. But I desperately wanted to remove the need for it from her life. If nothing else, I'd tell the other CSIs that I'd seen her and she was understandably upset, but okay.

"Come on in," she finally said, gesturing vaguely inside.

Stepping past her, I resisted the urge to pull her into a comforting hug. Instead, I simply touched her arm. We stood there for a moment before she closed the door and returned to the couch. Casting a practiced eye about her apartment, my gaze fell on her computer monitor. I wasn't exactly surprised to see a briefing of the trial there. 

"There's coffee in the kitchen if you want it," Sara said softly, getting up just long enough to shut down the search on her computer.

"Thanks," I replied, grateful for the chance to do something. "Can I get you some as well?"

"Sure," she sighed. "What the hell? It's not like I’m gonna be sleeping any time soon."

She wandered into the kitchen and I was helpless to do anything but follow in her wake. I watched her move around the room by body memory, pouring two large mugs full of the dark liquid that often matched the color of her eyes.

The fact that I could pinpoint her eye color so easily was a delightfully dismal realization. As she added spoonful after spoonful of sugar to her mug, I also realized I was avidly counting for future reference. As she finished (seven spoonfuls for a largish mug) and stirred her coffee, she turned to face me with a curiously raised brow.

"Black is fine," I replied, reaching for the mug. "Unless you have cream of some kind?"

"Non-dairy stuff's in the fridge," she said, gesturing toward the appliance. "I don't like it room temperature, even if it's fake."

I moved past her in the cramped kitchen to add a bit of creamer to my coffee. Taking a sip, I sighed happily. "That's good," I said. "Thank you."

She shrugged with one shoulder, but I could see the faintest glimmer of a smile lighting her eyes. "It was a gift from Greg for my birthday."

I nodded, studying her surreptitiously for a moment. We stood there, close enough to touch her if I thought she'd welcome it for what it meant. But I didn't. And when she headed back into the living room, I followed her to settle on the couch across from her.

"Why are you here, Sofia?" she finally asked, pointedly studying my face.

I met her gaze openly. "I was concerned when I heard you'd called out sick," I replied honestly. "It's not SOP for you, Sara, so I figured it had to be something pretty major. Especially when Catherine said you'd called out this morning."

"She tell you what today is?" A slightly defensive, fearful tone crept into her voice.

"Actually Grissom did." I let my tone soften even more. "I didn't know, and as trite as it may sound, I am sorry for your loss."

Sara snorted and curled into a tighter ball. "You have no idea," she muttered bitterly, and I fought off that protective instinct again, not wanting to spook her. "It was twenty-two years ago. Just a couple months before my thirteenth birthday. Great present, don't'cha think? Do you know what it was like to have to live through that? To wake up to the fighting, the beatings? That wasn't anything really unusual. To see the bloody knife in your mother's hand as she pulls it out of your father's back? Then shoves it back in with a maniacal laugh?"

Her voice grew huskier, eyes dropping to the mug in her hands. But not before I saw the naked emotion in her eyes, all of her barriers in ruins around her for that split second of opportunity I'd been presented.

"There are nights I still wake up in a cold sweat, swearing it's that night all over again," she finally continued. "The first few years, it was almost constant. And if it wasn't that night, it was the nights I'd been subjected to the beatings. I got transferred through a few foster homes by the time I was sixteen and had it mostly under control. Not many foster families can handle somebody like that. Not back then, at least. I didn't let anyone get close, for so many reasons…"

_And you still don't_ , I thought to myself, marveling once again at her resilience. And her self-exile.

"Normally? I just work this day each year. It's not like it's something I need to celebrate, you know?"

"So what's different this year, Sara?" The words were out before I even realized they'd been more than a thought.

"I got a call on my way home this morning," she said, setting her mug on the coffee table. "She always calls me every year. Well, when she's lucid enough, she calls to remind me that it's all over, that we're safe, that he'll never hurt us again, that… That she did it for me. It was all for me. I usually ignore her calls, let them go to voicemail and then delete them, usually unheard." She went silent, collapsing in on herself for a long, painful couple of minutes. Just as I was about to ask her for more, she began speaking again, tears thick in her voice. "For some reason, I took the call this morning. Wasn't her, though. It was the facility warden. She hadn't shown up for breakfast, so the guards went to investigate. Found her dead in her bunk."

"Oh, Sara," I breathed, aching for her.

"They, um, think she went in her sleep, but won't know anything definite until the ME takes a look at her." She let out a sharp bark of bitter laughter. "Funny, isn't it? Both of them die on the same fucking day, so many years apart. It's like she fucking planned it! Made sure I'd never forget this fucking day until I died."

Explosively, she was on her feet pacing. I watched her, coffee mug now having joined hers, forgotten on the table. Every movement was a controlled, impotent fury smothered in grief. Damning myself for potentially screwing things up, I was on my feet and standing in her path with only a couple of steps. Sara stared at me balefully and only struggled minimally when I finally enveloped her in a warm embrace.

"Don't touch me," she muttered, fighting the emotions that had her trembling like a newborn foal.

"Shh," I murmured just as quietly, tightening my grip against her struggles. "It's okay, Sara. It's going to be okay, honey."

There was a strangled sob of protest, but she made no further attempts to pull away. I simply shifted slightly to hold her closer and began to murmur soothing nonsense. When her arms wrapped around my waist suffocatingly tightly, I gently pressed her head to my shoulder and began stroking her hair and back. My own head bent closer, cheek resting against the soft brunette tresses. Occasionally, after a particularly violent sobbing shudder, I'd press my lips to her head.

I'd closed my own eyes against the tears stinging in sympathy. I wanted nothing more than to take all of her pain and suffering into myself, relieve her of this burden she'd carried for so many years. And if I couldn't completely subsume it, I was certainly willing to shoulder it as often as she needed the relief.

"Why?" The word was barely breath against the skin of my neck, accompanied by another rib-cracking grip of my waist.

"I don't know, honey," I replied, voice cracking slightly. "I wish I had the answer for you, I really do."

Her grip loosened minimally and I felt her fingers wind into the ends of my hair, absently playing with it. There was a perverse part of me that was glad I'd left my hair down when I came to see her. I didn't let up on my own comforting stroking of her back and hair. Nor could I deny any longer how good it felt to hold her, even with the gravity of the current situation.

"Do you know that I took scissors to my hair for the first time when I was six years old? Hacked it all off. Pissed both my mother and father off something fierce."

"Why did you do it then?"

"He didn't have anything to grab onto when I got too close and he was in a violent mood," she admitted softly. "Which was most of the time. And my mom? Yeah, she was pissed because she thought I was being too much of a tomboy by cutting off my hair. It wasn't until she saw me escape one of his beatings that she understood why I did it."

"I'm glad you've grown it out since then," I said softly, my own fingers carding through her hair. "I think this length becomes you."

She pulled back to look at me for a moment, her gaze guarded and warily curious. I half-tensed, expecting her to pull away and build up those walls again. But she didn't. The faintest tug of a smile at the corners of her lips and she dropped her head back onto my shoulder, practically nuzzling into my neck. I chewed at my lower lip for a moment, wondering if I hadn't gone too far. Especially given the circumstances.

"Thank you," she whispered huskily. "For… For everything."

"Whatever you need, Sara," I replied sincerely. "All you need to do is ask. I will gladly take your burden for a time, so you can have even a moment's peace." She sighed and leaned more closely against me, some of the tension bleeding out. I couldn't help myself and began massaging her back, slowly making my way from the base of her scalp down to the small of her back. The pressure began to melt away even more with each deliberately tender attack of a knotted muscle, and Sara's weight became heavier against me. Of course, the push and pull of the massage also served to press her lips against my neck more regularly. Or… Surely Sara couldn't actually be kissing me repeatedly. Could she?

"'m gonna fall over," she murmured.

"Couch?" I asked, gently smoothing my hands down her back to lightly grip her hips for balance. She shook her head. "Okay… Where then? Do you want to try a shower?"

"My bed," came the shyly muttered reply.

Dear God, could she really be asking what I think she's asking me? "Sara, I don't--"

"If you keep that up, I'm gonna fall asleep," she said, pulling back enough to cause my grip to tighten in an attempt to keep us both upright. "My couch is not good for my back."

"Oh. Right. Of course." I could feel the blush heating my cheeks at my presumption.

"What were you thinking, Sofia?" she asked curiously, eyes narrowing in that analytical way I knew and loved. 

I shook my head, suddenly unable to speak. She lifted a hand to tuck some hair back behind my ear, then let just a fingertip trace down the side of my face to rest against my lips. I stared at her, unsure of the situation suddenly. This was most definitely not what I'd planned on when I came over to check on her. I needed to distance myself from what was going on, get back to comforting a grieving friend. "Sara, I--" And I was still at a loss for words. "I'm sorry." It was so trite, so…

Sara simply shook her head and took a step back. Reluctantly I released my grip on her and watched her walk away. She picked up the two coffee mugs and headed into the kitchen. I stood there, debating just walking out the door without another word. I had no right to be taking advantage of Sara when she was in such emotional upheaval. I felt like the world's biggest ass for even considering it. Lost in these thoughts, I didn't notice when she finally returned to the room.

"Sofia?" she asked softly, touching my arm. "You didn't do anything wrong. Please don't beat yourself up over it."

"What?" Oh that was ever so eloquent, Curtis.

She chuckled, flashing me that enticing gap-toothed grin for the briefest of moments before turning serious again. "I may be focused, but I'm not blind, Sofia. I'm glad you came to see me. It's not that I'd have turned away Grissom or Catherine, or anyone else for that matter. But Grissom would be too analytical, Catherine too mothering. I need someone…" She paused for a long moment, staring down at her hand on my arm before turning back to face me. "I needed someone that would let me mourn the way I need to, not the way they expect me to. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, it does," I murmured huskily. "I was just… I wanted to make sure you were okay, more so when Grissom told me. I'm supposed to be giving you solace, not indulging in some stupid fantasy."

Her eyebrows raised at that. Me and my big mouth. I was about to apologize when I felt her fingers press against my lips again. "Don't. I appreciate what you've done for me so far. You didn't judge me, or my family; you listened; you gave me the support I needed." She dropped her gaze for just a moment, and I could see the pain replacing the brief interlude of amusement again. "Stay the night? I don't want to be alone."

Oddly galvanized by her pain, I pulled Sara close again and pressed my lips to her temple. "Of course," I murmured. "I told you, all you need to do is ask, Sara. I'd do anything for you."

She shuddered slightly, a sob escaping her lips again. "Promise?" came the ragged whisper as her grip once more tightened around my waist.


	2. Kindling the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Sofia take a bold step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept saying that I wanted smut for Sara and Sofia, but that I didn't want it too soon in this particular story's relationship arc. Yeah, my Sara muse heard the words sex and Sofia, and that was all she wrote, folks... *veg*
> 
> While surfing the 'net for sterling roses Sara would give Sofia, I found these sterling silver roses from Love is a Rose, located at <http://tinyurl.com/m2u3h>. They just seemed perfect…

I was instantly awake. In that split second between deep sleep and full wakefulness that writers wax poetic about, I froze with the realization that I wasn't in my own bed. Where the hell was I? And in the next instant, memories flooded back of holding Sara while she slept, chasing away her demons and nightmares as much as I could, protecting her from her grief. And then I wondered why I was alone in Sara's bed. I stretched out an arm to where she'd last been and felt the sheets were cold. Okay, panic definitely began to set in. Where could she have gone? 

Sitting up quickly, I caught the telltale scent of a recently run hot shower. Just then, the bathroom door opened and the object of my concern stepped into the bedroom. Wrapped in a white robe, she stopped in the doorway and bent over to start briskly rubbing at her hair with a towel. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed. Certainly not the upset woman I'd come to see the night before. I rested my chin in my hand, elbow braced on my knee, and happily watched her.

"You're up," she said, startled as she met my gaze when she stood upright again.

I could see the faint hints of red rimming her eyes and smiled warmly. "Just woke up a bit ago. Got a little worried when I couldn't find you."

"Sorry," she replied sheepishly, and I delighted in the faint flush tingeing her skin. "My bladder woke me up, and then I felt all disgusting after all that crying last night. I wanted to wash some of it away." She gestured vaguely toward the shower. "If you want a shower, there's still a lot of hot water left. I hope I didn't drool all over you, but…"

"Is that what this is?" I asked, lightly poking at the damp spot above my heart. "I was worried I'd sprung a leak or something." Her blush intensified and I grinned broadly. Getting out of bed, I walked to her side, completely ignoring the fact that I was only in my tight t-shirt and panties. I barely remembered stripping down last night. Standing there, I ran my fingers through her hair, cupped her cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I expected to," she admitted honestly. "Thank you, Sofia."

"Anytime, honey," I murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "Remember, all you have to do is ask."

She nodded, blinking furiously. "Um, go ahead and grab a shower. There's towels in there. I'll find you a shirt to wear and get yours washed for you." Stepping past me, she dug into her closet. 

I watched her for a moment before slipping into the bathroom. Quickly stripping off what little clothes I wore, I stepped under the hot spray with a sigh. I couldn't help but memorize each bottle and container in Sara's shower, categorizing the smells against my memories of her. I zipped through my shower and toweled off before stepping into the empty bedroom. On the bed were my jeans, my bra, and a t-shirt I recognized as one she'd worn often. I balled up my underwear and t-shirt, intending to take them home later to wash, and quickly slipped into my clothes. As I stepped out into the living room and headed for the kitchen to get some coffee, I deftly pulled my hair back into a braid.

"Morning," I murmured, unconsciously moving to wrap my arms around Sara's waist from behind. Resting my chin on her shoulder, I watched her flip over the omelet before sliding it onto a plate. It wasn't until I'd moved to the table to actually start eating that I realized Sara hadn't said anything in return, nor had she joined me at the table. Curious, I glanced over to see her standing at the stove, fingers in a white-knuckled grip on the countertop. In a heartbeat, I was at her side, carefully prying her fingers from the counter. "Sara? Honey, what's wrong?"

She shook her head sharply and turned to wrap herself around my body. Automatically, my arms were around her, stroking, soothing, comforting. "Don't let go," she whispered.

"Not a chance, honey," I murmured.

This particular bout only lasted a moment or two before she was pulling back to offer me a watery smile. "Sorry, it just hit me kinda hard again."

"Completely acceptable." 

She nodded and curled against me for another moment or so. I reveled in the unique scent of Sara, soap, and shampoo until she moved again. Picking up her plate, she headed toward the table, tugging me along behind her with a hand. Sitting down, she quickly dug into her food, and I wondered when she'd last eaten. And then my own stomach reminded me it had been far too long since my last meal. We ate in companionable silence, our gazes occasionally meeting. It felt…right to be here with her like this. There were so many things I wanted to share with Sara, but I knew better than to push her into anything.

As she stood and grabbed for our plates, I let my eyes follow her, imagining what might be under that robe. I couldn't help the stupid grin on my face, or the blush darkening my cheeks when she turned and caught my gaze. She grinned broadly and moved closer, reaching for my hand. She deftly intertwined our fingers, smile growing slightly broader when I brushed my lips across the backs of her knuckles.

"I should probably get dressed," she finally murmured and reluctantly let go of my hand. "I'll need to hit the store today, since I just cleaned out my fridge to make you that breakfast."

I chuckled and stood up. "I can go with you, if you'd like. Pick up a few things so I can make you one of my favorite meals for lunch?"

"I'd like that," she replied shyly and leaned up to press a kiss to my cheek. "Be right back."

~ * ~

I didn't get the chance to go see Sara for nearly two weeks after that. Our shifts and cases ended up in complete opposition, and all I could do was call her when I got the chance. Our conversations spanned a number of topics, each of us learning quite a bit about the other. And yet any time the conversation turned toward anything even slightly relationship-related, Sara would turn shy and monosyllabic. I learned quickly enough that it wasn't something I could broach overtly with her. I didn't want to lose the fragile, burgeoning relationship we were forging.

"Hey, Curtis!" O'Riley called out my name as I walked into the squad room. "What kinda pansy-ass guy you dating that's gonna send you flowers?"

I quirked a brow at him and rolled my eyes. "Definitely more man than you are, O'Riley," I tossed back, curious as to what the hell he was talking about. "And if I'm getting flowers, I'd think it's more a question of what I did to deserve them, don't you think?"

"Yeah, whatever, Curtis," he retorted, chuckling.

I shook my head and focused on the long white box sitting on my desk. I did my best to mask my curiosity and began to undo the silver ribbon from around the box. Pulling up the lid, I set it aside to peel back the pristine tissue paper…and gasped at what lay nestled within. A trio of perfectly wrought silver roses. Lifting one out, I was surprised it wasn't as heavy as I'd expected, and studied it intently. It was flawlessly produced. I'd have sworn it was a real rose. I pulled out the other two, attempting to get at the card lying beneath them. The faintest hint of roses wafted into the air around me. I didn't recognize the company, but found its description of the roses interesting.

_Three freshly cut roses have been preserved perfectly in sterling silver, retaining their beauty long past the lifespan of the cut flowers._

And I instantly recognized the handwriting on the card. I'd deciphered it how many times over the past couple of years?

> _These roses represent the past, the present, and the future._
> 
> _I've shared my past and present with you._
> 
> _I'd really like to share my future with you, if you're willing._
> 
> _-S_

Staring at the card, I felt that stupid grin spread across my face. I lifted the roses to my face to smell them before I remembered they were coated in silver. Carefully placing them back in the box with the card, I picked the whole thing up and headed out the door. Only to be stopped when I was nearly gone.

"Hey, Sofie!" I cringed inwardly at the nickname Jim had picked up so long ago. "Where ya going?" I could tell by his tone that he knew what was going on. I could just tell.

"Off to say thank you for a gift," I replied, pointedly not meeting his eyes. I so didn't want to face that knowing smirk of his. "If that's all right with you?"

"Somebody sent you flowers, hunh?" he asked, tugging at the box. "Can I see?" I sighed dramatically, secretly thrilled to be showing off the roses, and opened the box. I'd forgotten about the card sitting right on top and blushed when he murmured the words written there. He met my gaze then, a knowing, approving smile on his face. "I certainly hope you're willing," he replied, leaning close so only I heard, then walked away.

I stood there for a moment, stunned by his words. Had I just gotten parental approval from one of Sara's "uncles" then? I wondered what Grissom and Catherine would say. Curiosity led me out the door and down toward the labs. I absently waved to anyone who greeted me on my way, but I was intent on finding my quarry as soon as I possibly could. I found her in her lab, as usual, bent over a microscope. Setting the box down near the door, I moved as quietly as possible to stand behind her. With only the slightest sound to warn her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my chin on her shoulder. "I'm more than willing," was all I murmured in her ear.

She stiffened initially, but immediately relaxed when she recognized my voice. "Did you like them?"

"They're beautiful, Sara," I replied, pulling back to smile at her. "Where did you find them? They must have been expensive as hell!"

She shrugged nonchalantly, but I could see the pride in her eyes. "What else do I have to spend my money on?" I couldn't fault that logic. "I found them online. I wanted something special, something that wouldn't die. The roses seemed perfect. And the website even said that they represented past, present, and future. And that got me thinking…and then I knew I had to buy them for you." She stopped suddenly, realizing she was rambling a bit. I felt my heart melt a little more at her train of thought. Oh yes, I wanted this to work out more strongly than anything in my life. 

"Listen, I'm actually almost off shift, and I have the next two days off. And unless you've changed your schedule, you've got the next couple days off, too. Can I take you to breakfast after your shift in the morning? Then just do, I don't know, something together? Get to know each other a little better?" I grinned and felt the hint of a blush along my cheeks as she smirked, catching me rambling as well. Good, I'd rather we were both nervous and willing to try.

"It all sounds good," she replied, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Great," I replied and reached for her hand to brush my lips across her knuckles. "I'll be back to get you at the end of your shift." And then I turned to grab the roses and head back toward my desk, and my job.

"Sofia, wait." Her voice stopped me in my tracks and I turned to see her coming closer. She leaned in to press the most fleeting of chaste kisses against my lips, barely a brush of skin against skin. "Stay safe, okay?"

~ * ~

Breakfast was lovely, and I'd wanted to do so many things with Sara, but she was exhausted, so we headed back to her apartment for some shut-eye. As I lay there, holding her close, I realized just how long it had been since I'd felt this comfortable with another person. Since I’d been comfortable enough to strip down and share a bed with them. And then I smiled, as I realized the normally reticent Sara Sidle must have been feeling just as comfortable. She'd fallen asleep almost the instant her head found purchase on my chest. I didn't mind in the slightest when she began drooling again. At some point, I'd fallen asleep as well, blissfully wrapped around Sara. My dreams were filled with much the same thing. 

Waking up, I found myself alone in Sara's bed again. "This is turning into a scary habit," I muttered, hands colliding with cold, empty sheets. And once again, she came shuffling out of the bathroom, this time still in her tank top and panties. I couldn't help ogling her as she came back toward the bed and slipped under the covers. "I missed you," I murmured, pulling her close again.

"Sorry," she replied.

"Nothing to apologize for," I replied, then remembered the events of the evening before. "Actually, there is one thing you need to apologize for." At first, she looked startled, then puzzled as she tried to figure it out, then fearful when she couldn't. "You should apologize for that little kiss in the lab. You had me distracted all damned night, honey."

Her fear melted into a shyly devious grin. "I barely touched you," she replied, in amused indignation. "I hardly see how that could be so distracting."

I felt my eyebrows rise toward my hairline. "Oh really?" I asked her, shifting to lean up on one elbow. "Let me show you what it was like. See how distracting it can be, hmm?" Without letting her respond, I leaned in to brush her lips ever so faintly with mine. It was as close to the kiss that she gave me as I could get. And then I pulled back and flashed her a bright smile. "I'm gonna go make coffee now."

I started to get out of the bed, smirking devilishly as she just lay there. An arm around my waist pulled me back against her. "You're not going anywhere," she growled.

I chuckled and swiveled around to glance at her. I was mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze. "Not so fun when you're on the receiving end of that, is it, honey?" I murmured, licking at my lips.

That was the last thing I uttered as she pulled me closer and branded me with a kiss…that defied description. I groaned into the kiss, squirming around until I faced her completely, wrapped my arms tightly around her body, molding her to me. The hint of peppermint on her breath reminded me of the sweetness of candy canes. I couldn't help myself, fingers moving up under the hem of her tank top to stroke across the smooth skin of her back.

Pulling back from the kiss with an audible pop to suck in a lungful of oxygen, I licked my lips and stared at Sara through half-closed eyelids. She looked beautiful: eyes dilated with desire; lips bruised with the intensity of our kiss; face flushed; nipples tight, hard points under her tank top. I was quite sure I looked much the same to her. I'd never wanted someone as much as I wanted Sara in that moment.

She didn't wait long before she pulled me close again, lips seeking out mine momentarily before she began to nibble a trail from my earlobe down along the side of my neck. I arched my head back, moaning when her hands pushed my shirt up enough to cup my breasts. I squirmed under her, hands moving restlessly under her shirt, stroking her back. The sensation of her lips wrapping around one of my nipples nearly sent me over the edge.

"Oh, god, Sara!" I cried, pressing her head closer to my chest. She hummed something in response, the sensation arrowing straight from my nipple to my clit. Nibbling her way across my chest to my other nipple, Sara shifted slightly to straddle my left thigh. I groaned at the feel of her damp panties against my skin and let my hands glide down her back to grip her ass wantonly.

She tried to kiss her way back up to my lips, pulled up short by the cotton bunched around my chest. With a low growl, she tugged the material over my head and tossed it behind her without care, lips once again seeking out mine. She sucked on my lower lip, fingers teasing my nipples. I pushed her up to remove the offending tank top that kept her skin from pressing tightly against mine. As she sat up, grinding gently against my thigh, I cupped her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples mercilessly. She moaned and arched into my touch, humping against my thigh even more.

"That's it, honey," I murmured huskily, scraping a thumbnail across her nipple, and smiled at her gasp of pleasure. "Just like that."

She whimpered and leaned down to kiss me again, hungry and feral, one hand tormenting my nipple as I'd done to her. The other hand slid down to stroke lightly across hip and thigh, always skirting the one place I wanted her to touch me. As her lips returned to my chest, she finally slipped her fingers into the waistband of my panties. Her fingers moved slowly, almost tentatively for a bit, stroking and exploring before two fingers sank into my pussy. Her thumb unerringly found my clit and she scraped her thumbnail ever so lightly across it, retaliation for my treatment of her nipples. I nearly arched up off the bed at that sensation, body already trembling with my need to come.

"Sofia," she rasped. "Look at me." I forced my eyes open, a low keening escaping my throat as she stroked and teased me closer and closer to my release. It took a moment to focus on her face; even longer to realize her hips were moving against my thigh in time with my own hips' desperate thrusting. 

Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to share this orgasm with her. My hand slid down to cup her breasts, lightly squeezing her nipple. I felt the shudder run through her body at that sensation, grinning triumphantly. Shifting ever so slightly to lift my left leg a bit, I timed my hips' movements to counter hers, lifting up as she slid down my thigh, maximizing our contact. And I never once lost eye contact with her.

In that split second as my orgasm hit, I saw the very naked, unfettered emotions in her eyes again, and fell headlong with a keening wail of her name.

When I was able to distinguish reality from the ecstasy of orgasm, I heard myself repeatedly babbling my love for Sara, accompanied by her soft sobbing against my chest. Forcing my muscles to obey, I stroked her hair and tipped her chin up to study her face. "Sara? Honey, what's wrong?" She shook her head, eyes still tightly shut for a moment. A vise-like grip settled around my heart and I wondered if we'd gone too far, too fast. Had I completely fucked up this budding relationship?

"No one's ever made me feel like that," she finally murmured raggedly, blinking away the tears. When she met my gaze, I saw those barriers still laid to waste. I stroked her cheek gently and smiled. "Thank you, Sofia."

"And here I thought I'd pushed too much," I replied, that restricted feeling lessening a bit.

She shook her head. "Just a little overwhelmed, that's all."

I nodded and pulled her up for a gentle kiss. "I certainly didn't intend this for getting to know each other better," I replied, chuckling softly. "I'm not usually the kind of girl who fucks around on the first date, not with someone I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Her eyes grew round at my words, and I flushed hotly. Damned if my mouth and brain didn't reconnect yet after that mind-blowing orgasm. "Really?" she asked tentatively. "Do you mean it?"

"With everything I am."


	3. Committing to the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Sofia choose to share their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second last paragraph of this story is a direct quote/prompt from Shatterpath, who knows me and my muses well enough to get us kick-started to finish this little piece. And she certainly knows just how much of a romantic I am, and found the perfect "quote" for me to let Sofia reveal her own hidden romantic side.
> 
> The cruise is based on what's offered at Lake Mead Cruises, located at <http://www.lakemeadcruises.com/weddings.html>. It seemed appropriate. Also, there was supposed to be a mention of everyone having boutonnieres/corsages being made of sterling silver rosebuds, similar to the roses Sara gave Sofia in "Kindling the Present." I just didn't get it worked in like I'd wanted.

**one year later**

"I hate this," she muttered darkly.

I bit back a smirk, belatedly realizing she wouldn't see it over the phone. "I know you do," I replied. "I'm not exactly jumping for joy myself here, Sara. But it'll be worth it in the long run, right?" I eased back into the couch, taking a quick pull off my beer. Closing my eyes, I could picture her, pacing the length and breadth of her lab, cell phone pressed to her head, hair softly framing that prettily pouting face. Oh, how I longed to kiss that frown away, replace it with a dazzling smile to light up her face.

"Sofia, are you even listening to me?" Her half-irritated question brought me back from thoughts of just how I'd remove that frown. I felt the flush heating my face, and it wasn't just from the beers I'd been downing. "Sofia?"

"I'm still here, honey," I replied sheepishly. "Got caught up in fantasies of something I want to do."

"Oh?" Her tone completely changed from irritated to curious, causing me to chuckle softly. "What kind of fantasies?"

"I don't know that I should tell you right now. It might distract you from your work, and we both know that Gil will kick my ass if I distract you too much."

"Sofia," she groaned, almost a whine. "It's bad enough I won't see you until tomorrow. I don't know how I'm gonna sleep tonight."

"The same way you have in the past when we haven't been able to see each other." I took another pull off my beer, sighing internally that it was empty. Heading into the kitchen, I continued. "You know I'm not gonna sleep any better, but I'm willing to make the sacrifice. Besides, think of how much better tomorrow night will be."

She let out a sound that was part snort, part groan. But it was all Sara. "I can't wait," she replied, then started laughing. "You realize Nick's going to give us so much shit tomorrow."

"You mean he hasn't already?" I quipped. "If he's not careful, he's gonna find himself naked and handcuffed to the back of his truck in front of a leather bar, wearing a sign that says 'I'm hot for big boys.' That'll teach him a lesson or two."

"Oh my god!" Sara finally wheezed when she could breathe again after hysterical laughter. "You are such a devious bitch sometimes, Sofia Curtis! Thank god, I'm on your good side."

I smiled and debated another beer. "Tell you what," I replied in a husky voice. "Why don't you give me a call when you're off work? I'll talk to you while you fall asleep. How's that sound, honey?"

"I'd rather you do that while we're curled up together," she muttered before clearing her voice. "But we can't, I know. Why did I agree to do this again?"

"Because you can't tell me no?" I teased.

"Ha-ha," she said, then I heard muffled noises on the other side. "Um, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"You got it, honey. Love you."

"Back atcha," she said before ending the call.

How was it that I missed her enough that I was willing to drive down to the lab just to say hello? But I wouldn't do it. It was my request to follow this one little tradition. I couldn't very well be the one to break it. She'd never let me live it down.

The knock at my door startled me. Curious, I headed out into the living room to check before yanking the door open. "Mom! What are you doing here?"

Her eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "Is that any way to greet your mother, Sofia?" she asked, barely covering her amusement.

I pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry; I just wasn't expecting you until tomorrow morning."

"I know," she replied, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I decided I'd rather have some time alone with you before your life is completely inundated with Sara." She stepped into the condo, looking around. "And where is your partner, Sofia?"

"Working," I replied a bit wistfully as I grabbed her suitcase and closed the door. "In fact, I was just talking to her before you got here."

She turned to gaze at me. I fiddled with the handle on her suitcase, but weathered the motherly scrutiny. "You always did wear your heart on your sleeve far more than you thought," she finally said, smiling gently. I echoed her smile and took her suitcase into the spare bedroom. When I came out, she was fingering the bouquets we'd had made. "These are lovely, Sofia. Where on earth did you get those pewter roses?"

"They're silver," I corrected without thinking. "Three of them are the ones Sara gave me almost a year ago. A part of me hated the thought of cutting them down for the bouquets, but then Jim came up with the idea of ribbons wrapped around the stems, so we could put the arrangements in vases afterwards."

Once again, my mother pinned me under that deliberate stare. I'd hated it as a child, but had tempered it into a version of my own when I became a cop. And then she started to chuckle. "You're rambling, dear," she teased lightly, chuckling again when I felt the flush of embarrassment heating my cheeks. She grabbed at my beer. "Am I to assume you're in no shape to drive, young lady?"

I considered protesting, but thought better of it. "I'd rather not take any chances, if that's what you mean. Why?"

"I thought we could go say hello to Sara and then go to dinner. But I suppose I can drive if you play navigator for me."

"But I made Sara promise--"

"Oh please, Sofia," she interrupted me. "You're stopping in to let your mother say hello, not to slam Sara against a wall and fuck her senseless." And that blush returned full force. I wasn't sure I'd ever learn to accept my mother's matter-of-fact attitude toward my sex life. It was one thing for me to have that attitude, completely another for my mother. "Besides, that kind of behavior is for your honeymoon, right?"

I grinned broadly at the thought of our honeymoon. "It most certainly is," I quipped and headed into the kitchen to put the rest of my beer in the fridge. I could always finish it when we got back. It would help with getting me to sleep. Grabbing up my keys on my way back to the living room, I tossed them at my mother. "I'm ready when you are. Thai?"

"I'm dying for Thai," she replied, following me out the door.

~*~

It was a relatively quiet trip to the lab. I felt a bit nervous in going to see Sara like this. One of the things we'd tried to do was stay as professional as possible at work. It was difficult, but we were mostly successful. Walking in, I noticed Sara's Denali was still in the parking lot and gave my mother the fifty cent tour of the lab at night. Gil and Jim were both exceedingly polite to my mother, but threw me amused glances. It seemed it was a pretty slow night, and they quickly pointed us in the direction of Sara's lab. I couldn't help the grin spreading across my face as we headed down the hall.

I slipped into the lab before my mother, moving behind my lover as quietly as possible. Just as I was about to wrap my arms around her waist, she spun around to stare at me. "What are you doing here?" she murmured. "I thought you said it was bad luck?" I shook my head and pressed a light kiss to her lips, pulling her closer, but quickly pulled back at my mother clearing her throat. Sara jumped and stared at her, flushing hotly. "Uh, Captain Curtis?" she squeaked.

Mom chuckled and moved to join us, giving Sara a hug. "We're going to dinner, but I wanted to stop in and say hello. How are you doing, Sara?"

"Okay, I suppose," she replied, glancing at me from the corner of her eye. "I'd be better if someone hadn't made me promise to stay apart tonight." I simply shrugged and pulled Sara closer for a moment, resting my chin on her shoulder. "I just hope it's worth it."

Mom smiled happily at us, patting each of our cheeks. "It will be, Sara. Trust me. It's just one night." And then my stomach rumbled loudly, causing us all to laugh. "And now I should get my daughter some food before her stomach takes over." She started toward the door. "Kiss your partner, Sofia, and let's get going."

I grinned sheepishly again and turned Sara toward me. "You realize this'll be the last kiss we share before the ceremony tomorrow?" I whispered huskily. She nodded and swallowed audibly, but leaned in with a tender kiss. I whimpered softly at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. "I love you, Sara," I murmured when she pulled back.

"I love you, too." The words were so soft I barely heard them. Even after a year of being together, it was still so hard for her to say them. I treasured each and every time she was able to say them to me. They were more precious to me than anything else in the world, if only because I knew what it cost her to say them. "Now go, before I say to hell with tradition and beg you to stay."

Pressing another fleeing kiss to her lips, I blinked back tears and murmured, "'I'll see you tomorrow, honey." And then I blindly followed my mother out of the building.

~*~

Catherine and Lindsey had done a fabulous job in decorating the boat for the ceremony. It looked exactly like I'd hoped. And that thought made me wonder how Sara would look, standing next to me as we committed ourselves to a life together. Which in turn gave me the worst case of butterflies I ever had…outside of the night I'd asked Sara to share my life.

> _**three months earlier**_
> 
> _"You've been awfully quiet tonight, Sofia," Sara asked curiously as we lay curled up on the couch. She twisted around slightly to look at me. "Is something wrong?"_
> 
> _I shook my head and smiled. "Nothing's wrong, honey. I've just been thinking, that's all."_
> 
> _She flicked the remote, turning the television off. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the suddenly dark room. When I could see again, I watched her studying me. She stroked her fingers down the side of my face, mapping my features. "About what?" she whispered._
> 
> _I hesitated then, unsure of her reaction if I told her the truth. It hurt to consider a negative reaction. But it hurt more to even consider lying to her. I shifted to sit up, then I got up and headed into the bedroom. I pulled out the box I'd had hidden from her and made my way back to the couch. Realizing the lights were on, I pocketed the box and lit a few candles around the room. I felt her stare on my back as I continued to light candles and flick off the light switch. Before I headed back to the couch, to her side, I grabbed for the vase holding the three silver roses she'd given me. Setting them on the coffee table, I took her hands in mine and pulled her close for a tender kiss._
> 
> _"Sara, we've been together for, what, almost nine months now?" I asked her, looking deeply into her curious, frightened eyes. She nodded slowly, and I could see her eyes growing glassy with fearful tears. "No, honey, I'm not leaving you."_
> 
> _"Then what?" Her voice was already husky._
> 
> _I pointed to the vase. "Do you remember the day you gave these to me?" She nodded, trying to nonchalantly wipe at her eyes. "It was one of the best days in my life. And that night? Making love for the first time? Indescribable."_
> 
> _"I remember," she murmured._
> 
> _I reached for a rose from the vase and held it out in front of her. "This rose represents the pains of the past. The things and people that helped and hurt us, molding us into the women we've become." I pressed my lips to its petals and gave it to her, smiling when she repeated the gesture. Grabbing a second rose, I held it up. "This rose represents the discoveries of the present. The situations that have brought us together time and again, learning the ups and downs of what it means to be alive." Again I bestowed a kiss on the petals and offered the rose to her. As she also kissed it, I grabbed the third rose and considered it for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "This rose represents the possibilities of the future. The reality of a long life of shared moments, of unconditional love, of happiness and sadness." A last kiss of benediction upon the rose before Sara held all three in her hands._
> 
> _I took a deep breath and rubbed my palms across my thighs. This was truly it, my moment of destiny. I cupped her face in my hands and smiled, blinking back a few tears. "Sara, I have never felt what I feel for you. You are the most incredible person I know. You've survived so much, and you do everything you can to help others escape the same things. You just…" I shook my head slightly and dug into my pocket. Pulling out the box, I set it in her hand. "Sara, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you." Flipping up the lid on the box, I smiled at her. "Will you do me the honor of…" I hesitated, not sure if I had the right words._
> 
> _She stared at the ring in the box for a long moment. So long that I began to fear I'd once again gone too far. Finally, she raised her eyes to meet mine, and I could see the tears. "You know," she replied huskily. "I've never believed in weddings, or true love, or anything like that. I always thought it was such bullshit. And then I met you. Things have changed. So, um, if you're asking me to be… My answer is yes."_

The knock at the door brought me back to reality. "Come in," I called softly. "Unless you're Sara, that is." The answering chuckle as the door opened made me smile. "Hi, Gil."

"Hey, Sofia," he replied. "How're you holding up?"

"Oh, you know, nervous as hell, feeling like I'm about to pass out. The usual." I smoothed my hands through my hair again, needing something to do.

"You look lovely, so does Sara," he said gently, reaching for my hands. He guided me to the settee. "I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I'm really glad you and Sara got together. You've been so good for each other." He ruefully chuckled. "You know, there was a time I thought there might be something between you and me. But I can see that you found your perfect match, and I hope you two have a very long and happy life together."

I gave him a watery smile. "Thank you, Gil, but if you make me cry and mess up my mascara, I'll have to hurt you."

His laugh was infectious and I felt a few of the butterflies escaping from my stomach. With a wry grin, he pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in my hand. "Do me a favor and wear this?"

I looked at it and saw it was a bow tie. "Gil, this is far too formal for what I'm wearing."

"I know that, but humor an old man? A very wise woman once gave this to me and told me I'd never know when I'd need it for a special occasion. Well, I think this is a pretty special occasion, don't you?"

Once again, I felt tears welling in my eyes and slipped the bow tie around my neck. "I'd be honored to wear this."

~*~

"I, Sofia, pledge my life and my heart to you, Sara, to be my partner for as long as we both wish it. I pledge to be honest, even when it might be painful. I pledge to be faithful to you and to the love we share. I pledge to be flexible and willing to work out any issues that may come our way. I love you, Sara," I said and slipped the ring on her finger, "and I never want to lose the thrill of knowing you're a part of my life."

As Sara repeated the same words, I found myself fixated upon my beautiful love. The friends and family surrounding us faded into a comfortable background hum next to the vibrant happiness emanating from Sara. The sensation of that ring sliding onto my finger brought a sense of homecoming that I hadn't realized I needed. 

And then we were allowed our first kiss as a committed couple. I was instantly reminded of the very first kiss we'd shared. All of the ups and downs of the past year flashed before my eyes as we kissed, and I realized just how _right_ this really was. It no longer mattered if neither of us had believed in marriage or true love before. All that mattered was that we'd found what we needed in each other, and I would be damned if I let that die.

~*~

The toasts were getting more and more amusing as each of our friends took their turn giving us quite a bit of shit before congratulating us. I knew I was certainly feeling the effects of adrenalin, love, and champagne. And then it was Sara's turn to speak. We'd decided to let everyone say something, since it was a small gathering, and they had informed us that meant we had to say a few words as well.

"You know, I never thought I'd get married," she started out, eyes on the ring glittering on her finger. "As Nick said before, I was so against marriage because it's almost always for the wrong reasons or ends up so badly. And then Sofia came into my life. And it wasn't until she asked me to spend our lives together that I realized I did want to commit myself to a lifetime with her, before my friends and family. Maybe it's a cliché, but I really have found a reason to get up every morning, a reason to smile. And I'm lucky enough to know that she feels the same way." And then she turned to look at me, with that smile that she saved just for me. "I love you, Sofia, more than I ever thought was possible."

I blinked back tears at her admission, ever so glad for Catherine's offer of waterproof mascara. Pressing a light kiss to her lips, I smiled broadly. My eyes traveled to each person who had joined us in our celebration, taking in the peacefulness of Lake Mead in the waning daylight.

"As my mother can attest to, I had all of the classic fairy tale wedding fantasies as a small girl," I said, smiling at my mother. "And when my father passed away, I lost some of those. I feared the whole idea of marriage because I didn't want to have to go through the rest of my life without my partner should they die like he did. And as passé as it sounds, I felt something when I first really met Sara and worked with her. I never expected it to amount to anything. Until that fateful day a year ago when she didn't come in to work. The day I had to go to her apartment and make sure she was all right. The day I learned about so much tragedy in her life." I felt Sara squeezing my hand, and I lifted our hands to brush my lips across her knuckles. "When I decided to ask Sara to be my wife, I knew I wanted to have our ceremony on this very day. As I'd explained it to her that night, I wanted Sara to have a reason to look forward to this day, rather than fear and loathe it. I wanted to make a good memory for her, and I think maybe I have." I met Sara's eyes again. "Sara, you mean more to me than I can express. I love you, honey."

We kissed again, giddy warmth spreading through my body at the comprehension that I'd gotten what I'd always wanted. It didn't take long for us to be separated by our friends, wanting dances or conversations with us. At one point, I felt her gaze on me, and I looked up to see her holding out a hand to me. I was helpless to resist the urge to join her, wandering away from a discussion with my mother that I already couldn't remember. I wrapped my arms around Sara's waist, holding her close as we swayed to a tune only we could hear.

In the fading desert light, she had never looked more beautiful. If there had ever been any doubt in mind or heart about spending my life with her, it fled with the last rays of sun.

I was home.


End file.
